Horns
by Selena Snow
Summary: An awkward elven ritual leads to a closer bond between the prince and the would-be-assassin. Rayllum fluff.


**I'M BACK and ready to ship some Rayllum! This has a potential to continue, but eehhhh we'll see. Enjoy!**

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Horns. She had them. He wanted to touch them.

But he didn't know anything about them. Were they sensitive? Would the slightest tap hurt? Did they have crazy motion-sense capabilities? Would she be able to feel him reaching?

Even worse, what if there was a whole world of horn-touching-etiquette he didn't know? What if that was a sign of..._interest_ or whatever.

The fact was, though, he _was_ interested. Not in that way— no, no, no, no. He just…I don't know, it was so _cool_ and he wanted to see if they felt cool or hot or rough or smooth or fuzzy or prickly or whatever!

His curiosity simply couldn't be helped. It seemed that every day he spent on this journey to Xadia, his previous notions of these horrible, bloodthirsty monsters called elves were all just so incredibly wrong. And now that he knew they were wrong, he wanted to make sure he had it all right.

Right down to the smallest details of what horns were like.

Callum often tried to get as close a look as he could. It was easy, given the fact that Rayla lead the way most of their trip. But even with that advantage, the true nature of her horns was difficult to decipher. All he could tell was that they were dark grey, and then there were a few other dark lines, too. But were those ridges? Or just stripes? Maybe it was some sort of meaningful marking? Did her parents have horns similar to hers? Did they stand for something in the socioeconomic realm of moonshadow elves?

At this point, he felt like all these theories and unanswered questions were starting to drive him crazy.

Sometimes he found himself imagining what it must feel like to have two little pointy spires on top of your head. Were they attached to her skull? The prince shivered a little. That would be freaky. No, what if it was more like hair? Just really, really hard hair that grew in a very, very particular way?

Gosh, this would all be so much easier if Ezran was still around. Callum knew he'd had all the same questions. And knowing him, Ezran wouldn't have hesitated in asking. It was something about his childish innocence— something that Rayla opened up to more, and something that Callum clearly didn't have.

As far as they'd come in their whirlwind friendship, Callum still felt like there was a bit of a wall between him and Rayla. That wall had been easier to navigate with Ezran around, but these days, with just him, her, and Zym, things felt…not awkward, but definitely not super comfortable either. Formal was the word he'd use. With a tinge of standoffishness.

Callum rolled his eyes at his own word choice. He really was inside his head a lot these days, wasn't he?

He shook said head and brought himself back to reality. He was still staring at the exact same page he'd left off on when his thoughts had begun to wander. He looked over the words of the spell book one more time, but they still didn't make a bit of sense. Draconian hadn't exactly been a course emphasized by the castle's tutor.

The prince's eyes drifted up from the useless words and fell on his companion. She was sitting on a stump, her eyes tracking Zym as he wandered around their makeshift camp. The baby dragon tripped over a little rock, and an amused smile slipped on her lips as she tilted her head.

Callum squinted his eyes. The colors on her horns looked different from this new angle. Was it the lighting? Could the colors change based on her mood? Did they look different in the daytime versus the nighttime? What kind of—

"What're you doin'?"

Shoot. He'd been staring without realizing it.

"Oh! Uh, nothing," Callum laughed, albeit a little nervously. "What uh, what are, uh...what are _you_ doing?"

Rayla raised an eyebrow. "Sittin'."

He nodded. "Right, yes, sitting. That's…good! Good for you and your…sitting."

The elf cast him one of her usual dubious looks. He gave a strained caught-with-your-hand-in-the-cookie-jar smile back. But after a few moments, she suddenly let out a loud sigh.

"You can hear me thinkin' out loud, can't you?" she grumbled.

Callum's brow furrowed, and he got up from his seat against a tree. He walked over to sit down on the ground in front of her. "Thinking? About what?"

There was a pause. Some birds nearby let out a couple tweets. Rayla shifted awkwardly, her eyes darting down. "My horns."

The young prince's face flushed. "Oh, gosh, yeah, I um...didn't know you'd noticed, but—"

"Of course I did. They feel gross."

Callum nodded quickly in agreement. "Yeah, totally, I— wait what?"

Rayla groaned and put her face in her hands. "Stop messin' with me, I know they're dirty! I haven't exactly had a mirror on this extremely unplanned expedition, okay?"

Blinking, Callum looked. Huh...now that he had a moment to really investigate without fear of being caught, he could see a film of..._something_ covering her horns.

His elven companion looked up at him. Was that shyness in her eyes?

Purple and green met only for a second before hers flicked away again. "Look, I can't see them. Don't make me spell it out for you. It's embarrassin'."

Callum swallowed. Wait, was she actually—?

Rayla reached inside her pouch, pulling out a little white cloth and holding it out to him begrudgingly.

The young prince's eyes widened. She _was_.

Slowly, he took the cloth from her hand, their fingers brushing as he did so. A violet hue lit up his friend's face, and she quickly bowed her head.

"Go on," she insisted, crossing her arms. "We don't have all day."

Stunned though he still was, Callum managed to gather his wits about him. Inclining her head downward like that for him to reach couldn't be comfortable. He hummed in thought, then got up.

Rayla's head jerked. "What're you—"

"Calm down," he said immediately. "I'm just moving to stand behind you. I think it'll be easier that way."

The elf's shoulders dropped. He hadn't even noticed how stiff she'd gone. Maybe his theory was right…maybe this was a bit more intimate than either of them were okay with right now, but he didn't want to leave her feeling embarrassed. If she knew they were dirty without even looking at her horns, it had to feel strange to her.

As Callum set himself behind her, he studied the cloth in his hands. It was immaculately clean, not a speck of dirt on the white fabric. And it was different textures on each side, too. One side was smooth and silky, while the other was a bit rougher, tiny prickly threads sticking up straight.

Then, just on the edge in loopy purple thread, was the word "Rayla."

"You use the rough side first."

Callum blinked, suddenly realizing he'd just been standing there zoned out. "Oh! Right! Thanks."

Rayla made a noncommittal sound. It seemed to come out a little more high pitched than she'd probably hoped.

The young prince stared at the horns a moment longer before he took in a deep breath. This was it. This was the moment. This was…weird. He glanced down. Rayla's shoulders were tense again. This was _trust_.

So without further ado, Callum reached forward and began to wipe down her right horn. "So…you guys have elf barber shops in Xadia?"

"No," came the short reply.

He hummed. "So you usually just clean them yourself, huh?"

This time he got a shrug. "Most of the time."

"And the other times?"

"It's…" Rayla trailed off. "It's hard to explain."

Callum removed the cloth and looked it over. Sure enough, it had a dusting of purple…something on it. He shook it out over the grass, then resumed his task with the second horn.

"Well, I'm listening, if you, ah, you know, wanna tell me," he fumbled. Rayla remained silent, so he kept going. "I've always been so curious about what it's like in Xadia. The customs, the culture— I want to know what it's actually like from a real person, or uh, elf from Xadia, you know? I just feel like I haven't gotten a lot of accurate information, so I wanna—"

His ears just barely picked up the sniff.

His hands froze. Shoot, had he hurt her? Were horns sensitive? Maybe he got too busy talking and hadn't been focused on being gentle like he'd intended.

"You…you okay?" he asked warily.

Another sniff. "I'm _fine_."

…well that wasn't convincing.

Callum shifted so he could take a peek at her face. "You sure?"

His elven companion let out a large sigh. "I'll be fine, it's just—" Her voice cracked. He waited patiently for her to continue.

A moment passed before glassy purple eyes met his. "Horn cleanin' is a familial thing. It's very special, and…and I don't have that anymore."

The prince's heart squeezed. "Because of your parents."

"Yeah."

Swallowing hard, he slowly moved back to his former position. "Soft side now?"

Rayla nodded.

Silence held them captive for the next few minutes. Callum took his time, ensuring that every speck of purple he could see was gone. He was as careful as possible this time, even though his mind was spinning all the while.

Just as he was about to do a final sweep, she spoke.

"The last time my parents cleaned my horns was before their mission. When they failed, they were cast out of the Moonshadow elf guard with the highest degree of dishonor. Runaan took me in after that."

_Geez_. That was a lot. What could he say to that? Thankfully, nothing.

"Runaan was always terrible at it," Rayla continued. She went quiet, then let out a small laugh. "He was too aggressive— it felt like he was trying to polish my horns off."

Callum managed a chuckle. "He was the guy with the bow and arrow, right?"

"Yeah."

"Seems to match his personality."

Rayla snorted. "Completely."

The young prince grinned. "So, uh…how am I doing compared to that? On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst."

Something in the air changed. Somehow, Callum just knew she was now grinning mischievously.

"Oh, I'd say you're doing pretty alright," she replied. "I can still feel the yaltor in the grooves, though."

Callum groaned. "Seriously? I thought I got it all!"

Rolling her eyes (he didn't see it, but he knew she did), Rayla suddenly turned around and snatched the cloth. "See the prickles?" she said. "They line up with my horn pattern. Each elf has a cloth specially made— our horn patterns are entirely unique, none is like another."

He tilted his head. "Like a finger print?"

Rayla gave a confused look. "What's that?"

"Wait!" Callum gasped. He grabbed her hand, peering closely— what on earth?! Her fingers were completely smooth! No lines at all!

"Ah…what're you doin'?"

The prince looked up. A purple flush was on the elf's cheeks. A red hue slowly took over his own.

He dropped her hand like it burned him. "Nothing! I, just, um— well, look at my fingers." Callum held them up, and Rayla squinted her eyes.

After a few seconds, she blinked. "Humans are so weird."

Callum rolled his eyes and took the cloth back. "Anyways, since I was apparently cleaning your horns wrong this entire time and you didn't feel the need to tell me, how do I do it right?"

Snickering, Rayla scooted back around to her former position. "Wrap it around the entirety of the horn. My name goes at the base, then you swipe it all up once and do it again. It slowly dusts the yaltor out."

"Yaltor, huh?" he repeated.

"Mmhm. The worst thing about being an elf. It's so annoying."

"Kinda like dandruff? I get dandruff."

"What's dan-droof?"

Callum shook his head. "…you know what, never mind. Am I at least doing this right now?" He'd only done two swipes so far.

Rayla took in a deep breath, then let it out. He noticed her shoulders finally relax. "Doin' good," she hummed.

The silence wasn't so bad this time. It was actually kinda nice. Callum's mind still wandered. He wanted to know more about her parents. He wanted to understand what it was like for her growing up that way. He wanted to know if it was similar to how he felt when he lost both his parents.

But those were questions for another time. You know, a time when they weren't trying to end a war.

It had been several minutes now, and Callum could really see the difference. Before, the grooves had been a charcoal grey. After the improved cleaning, they turned a deep black. It was hard to believe these had been the same horns he'd been staring at the past few days! They suddenly looked so much more defined, more regal, more…well, more Rayla.

Callum shifted to see if his approval matched Rayla's. To his surprise, her eyes were closed. Her lips were turned up just slightly, and her face was slack with peace.

When Callum saw her, he couldn't help but smile himself. "All done?"

The elf's eyelashes fluttered open, almost looking surprised. "Ah, well, we are for now," she stated. "I usually finish with my favorite tsin polish, but I didn't think I'd need it for the trip."

Just like that, the tranquility was shattered. The uncomfortable wall that had been floating around the entire journey was slammed back up between them, with neither of them knowing what to say to beat it down again.

The fact was, they wouldn't be on this trip had she not come to kill his step father. Sometimes Callum forgot that, between all the escapes, magic, and moments where he felt like they connected. Their fates had only intertwined because of something horrible, something painful, something that couldn't be undone. Something that they really hadn't talked much about, maybe because they figured it was easier to avoid it.

"Callum, I—"

He glanced up.

Rayla's face was pained. "Callum, I'm so sorry. That was terrible of me to say. I can't believe I complained about something so stupid when you—" She seemed to lose the words. "I…I'm so _sorry_."

The young prince swallowed. "It's, um…well, it is all kind of weird, after all," he said awkwardly. "Guess we wouldn't have known each other at all if things hadn't…happened."

Her head lowered. "Yeah, that's true," she mumbled.

Silence. Again. Callum was really starting to wonder if they'd ever stop having these moments.

"Be honest with me," Rayla said suddenly. Her eyes lifted, piercing through his. "If you weren't forced to travel with me, would we even be friends?"

He didn't hesitate. "I'd hope so."

Callum never could fully explain what happened next. She was still staring into his eyes, searching almost, and something, _something_ passed between them. Wordless thoughts and emotions and understanding. All in just a few seconds.

Then, slowly, she smiled. "So…I know what you've been up to lately."

The prince blinked. "Huh?"

"Don't play dumb," Rayla teased. "I know you've been starin' at my horns. It was so obvious. You're curious, aren't you?"

Callum felt his face grow hot. "What! No! I would never, I—" She waggled her eyebrows, and he groaned. "Fine, yes, I'm curious, okay? I don't have 'em!"

Rayla's grin widened. "All ya had to do was ask. It's not a big deal, you know."

"No, actually, I didn't know," he huffed, crossing his arms. He didn't meet her eyes. She tapped her fingers on the stump patiently. Callum gave in.

"Ugh, fine!" he exclaimed. Laughing, the elf bent her head downwards. He reached forward, and whatever residual grumpiness he had from her teasing melted away as soon as he touch her horns.

They were surprisingly smooth, though they had the grooves, as he discovered. The ridges were rounded, perfectly symmetrical in some areas, then darting off into spirals in others. He traced the lines with his fingers, wondering if they had any more meaning to them than she'd already mentioned.

"Takin' your time, aren't you?"

"Shut up."

"Ooh, scary human, I'm so frightened! He's gonna threaten me with his coloring book!"

"We can't all be assassins, Rayla!"

She snickered. "True. But I should warn you real quick, don't touch the—"

"OW!"

"—tips," Rayla sighed. "You pricked your finger, didn't you?"

Callum held his now bleeding finger and narrowed his eyes at her. "You didn't warn me soon enough!"

Purple irises rolled, and she motioned for him to come forward. He begrudgingly obeyed. "This'll have to do," she said, taking her little cloth and wrapping it around his finger. She tied the knot firmly, then looked up.

The prince was gaping at her. "B-But it's your special thing!"

Rayla waved a hand. "And I can wash it when we get back home."

If either of them noticed her use of "we," they didn't mention it.

"Now come on!" Rayla commanded. She stood up and stretched. "We've been here long enough. We need to keep moving before our little guy gets spotted again."

As if on cue, Zym's sleepy head popped up from the ground. His tail wagged lazily.

Callum laughed. He walked over and picked the baby dragon up. Zym nuzzled his nose into his chest, then fell back asleep. Callum walked back over to his companion, gently transferring the dragon into her hands.

"What a cutie," Rayla smiled.

"A troublesome cutie," Callum corrected.

"Much like other people I know," the elf returned with a look that somehow said a lot more than her sentence did.

The prince's face was heating up again. Why? He didn't have a clue. Maybe it was just hot in Xadia. Yeah, that was probably it. Temperature differences.

He distracted himself by gathering his spell book and art supplies from the base of the tree, then looked back at her. "Ready to go?"

Rayla fell in step with him, setting off toward the east. "Yup! And I still want to know— what is dan-droof?"

Callum rolled his eyes. "You really don't want to know, trust me."

"Oh, but I do."

"Fine then, you have to explain what yaltor is."

"Ugh, but it's so gross!"

"A deal's a deal, Rayla."

"Alright, Callum. A deal's a deal. So, dan-droof?"

"It's dan-_druff_."

"Aaah, okay. So what is it?"

"Great, here we go."


End file.
